I look at my tiny baby sleeping peacefully in the ICU.

But my heart knows the truth this is only the beginning of our battle.

A battle for his life and for my strength to keep going.

My name is Miriam.

My baby’s name is Baruch.

He is only two months old.

He should be sleeping peacefully in my arms.

He should be growing, smiling, and filling our home with joy.

He should be wrapped in blankets, not surrounded by doctors, tests, medicine, and pain.

But Baruch is suffering.

His tiny kidneys are not working the way they should.

The doctors are still trying to understand exactly what is happening inside his little body.

We still do not have all the answers.

But one thing is already painfully clear:

My baby is in terrible pain.

And this is not something that will end tomorrow.

I look at my tiny baby sleeping peacefully in the ICU.

But my heart knows the truth: this is only the beginning of our battle.

A battle for his life — and for my strength to keep going.

Since Baruch became sick, our whole life has changed.

There are appointments.

There are tests.

There are medicines.

There are long days of fear and long nights with almost no sleep.

I hold him in my arms and try to stay calm.

I whisper to him that Mommy is here.

That everything will be okay.

But inside, I am falling apart.

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